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emsvertigo · 1 year

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Let The Light In

image not mine, found on pinterest

summary & genre — fluff & nsfw. it’s a hot day and you & seb are relaxing in your shared bed. (not fully smut)

warnings — sexual references, seb touches you a lot (i got a bit carried away), can’t think of anything cause this is actually tooth rotting.

character & pairing — sebastian wilder x fem!reader (la la land. 2016)

word count — 1.5k

a/n — i arise with a tooth rotting self insert. this came about because ever since i watched ‘la la land’ i can’t stop thinking about ryan. i’ve also been religiously listening to lana del rey’s new album so ofc this fic was written when i was listening to ‘let the light in’. anyway if anyone reads this i love you cause there’s actually no fics for ryan, let alone seb, and you understand what i’m going through. anyway i hope you guys enjoy!

find my old fics here! ✿

His hand ran slowly up and down your thigh, an effort to trace every single blemish on your skin. The warmth of his fingertips danced, coating your skin in a layer of sprinkled love, tickling his way along your freckles. Golden pools of light spilt into the room, painting the space in an amber aura of tranquillity; reaching to the crevices of the ceiling and plunging to the floor like a waterfall. Occasionally silence was broken by cars speeding past, or the harmony of birdsong in their melodic major key. You hummed, content with the pleasure and peace experienced at the moment.

The heat had forced you to bare your legs, curling towards you as the bedcovers drooped over your figure, your feet barely covered by the white duvet. Your head settled against the pillow, blissful in the comfort you had created. You stared at the dancing dust glimmering around his hair, coating it in a haze which painted his hair blond. The shimmering light drowned his face, illuminating his cheekbones, and causing his shadows to become softer, a soft fuzzy glow radiated from his face. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration, as he stared down at the book lingering softly in his hand.

You’d tell him religiously, like a preacher reciting a mass, all the ways in which he had made you come undone. How in the gorgeous light, he looked otherworldly, godly, like he was dripping with nectar. His bare chest was smothered in gold and small beads of sweat, a little patch of hair growing across his chest which was tanned with the Californian sun. The pink blush flushed against his cheeks absentmindedly decorated his bone structure. You could’ve stared for decades, letting your imagination run wild as his teeth caught his bottom lip, slowly biting at the soft flesh.

“Quit looking at me.” He laughed, turning a page of his book, not paying any mind to your form slowly inching closer to him. His eyes darted along the page, soaking in the information.

You hummed in response, reaching up and moving a strand of hair out of his face, tucking it back into place. He sighed, his eyelashes flickering and dropping the book into his lap, no longer interested in the contents it held. You smiled wildly, teeth grinning.

“Was the book not interesting?” You inquired, moving to place your hand under your chin and balance the other against the sheets. Seb smiled down at you, eyes sapphire in the blinding light.

“Too political.” He whispered, his eyes growing wide in a joking fashion. His hand had now removed itself from your thigh and was tiptoeing its way up to your waist. Your tummy was bare, the top you wore hugging as little of your frame as possible. The heat was incredible, and looking adequate was the least of your worries.

The silence returned as you both gazed into each other's eyes. A dog barked in the distance, the only thing shattering your peaceful moment. You licked your lips as Seb’s hands caressed your midriff, his touch tickling your warm skin. His eyelashes were heavy, and hair fell into his eyes once again, framing his face with curls. Stubble littered his face, a subtle hint that summer was here and his want to shave had disappeared.

“I love the way you look.” You exhaled, soaking in his features like an anaesthetic lulling you to sleep.

“That’s a strange way of saying you love me.” He laughed, his fingers still tracing the outline of your belly button absentmindedly. You rolled your eyes, wanting to smack his chest but deciding against it.

His head leaned down, planting a peck of a kiss onto your forehead. Lingering for a few seconds to breathe your scent in.

“I'm joking.” He mumbled into your hair, eyes fluttering closed. His hand coming further up your front, laying flat against your stomach.

His head returned to its original position, but in the newfound proximity, your breaths became one. Wavering for a moment, he let himself gaze in awe at your complexion. Drinking in every ounce of perfection, which dripped off of you.

“Now who's the one that's staring.” You breathed, his mouth swallowing your thought in a kiss. Your posture tipped towards his frame, a hand finding its way to rest gracefully at the side of his face. Stubble close to your fingertips.

His lips pressed flush against yours, causing his nose to meet your face. Tongues interweaving in dance, lips interlocking with passion. Your breath hitched in your throat as he pulled you towards him, hand now on the small of your back. His palm dragged its way up, and underneath your top.

A groan emerged from his lips as you parted from the bond. Leaving his lips pouted and flushed, eyelashes still closed against his pink cheeks. His hand still lazing on your back, drawing circles in impatience.

You swung your hips around, now sitting up on the bed facing him. He obliged without remark and sat the same way, pulling you in further with his other hand. Your hand had fallen to his chest and now rested flush against him, head raising to bathe in the golden sunlight filtering through the blinds. His eyes winked shut once again as he came forward to lock your lips with his.

“Seb.” You moaned into his mouth, gasping when his lips moved at a sensual pace, coating your mouth in his love. Your prayer was answered by a low hum, as his hands both felt their way around your torso. Your own hands wrapped themselves around his neck, desperate to pull him even closer to you. With your quickened movements, his book was left discarded on the wooden floor, pages open and ruined.

He swallowed every moan that dared to drip off your tongue in sweet praise, letting out a gasp when he let his fingers dance around the edges of your breasts. Your hands locked tightly into his hair, curling strands in between your fingers. Nails scratched down his scalp, allowing soft sounds to escape his throat like honey. Two bodies became one in a haze of cloudy lust.

His hands outlined your breast, almost frightened to touch you in case you shattered into millions of pieces. His tongue traced your teeth, as he attempted to consume every inch of you. His fingertips faltered, resting his thumbs against your chest, narrowly missing what he wanted to touch most. A slow hum erupted from your throat, threatening to break out into a moan, attempting to communicate your genuine need for him. Yet he still faltered.

You considered the fact his tongue was down your throat, yet he wouldn’t let his hands cup your breasts.

“Touch me.” You moaned in between kisses, acknowledging his hunger to feel you. Interlinking your souls together with a simple intimate touch.

Immediately his hands shifted into place, palms pressed flush against you. A strained noise choked in his throat at the action, a sound that sent an electric current running down to your core.

His hands began to work at a steady pace, moulding you like clay. His long fingers were covered by the cloth dividing him from the real world. Kneading you slowly like dough or putty, causing you to moan with every squeeze. You shifted positions so your heel sat in between your legs, desperately hoping for some friction against you.

He suddenly broke free from the kiss, panting into the air still coated in sun. His glistening face glowed in ecstasy and light, sunbeams bouncing onto his skin. His eyes worked their way down your front to meet with his hands beneath your top, the outline squeezing flesh. Your eyelids drooped at the sight of his features glimpsing your body.

Your hands released from his neck, and found their way to the hem of your shirt, tugging the fabric to pull it over your head. Once it was tossed at the side of the bed, you thanked God that you hadn't worn a bra that day. Your hands, gripped into his shoulders tightly.

Seb’s hands stopped for a second with the newfound sense of freedom, loosening their grip for a moment. You let your head lull backwards, gazing up at the ceiling and closing your eyes as his hands resumed their routine. A curse trickled from your lips in a stolen breath as your over-sensitive skin was pleasured.

“Oh, my God.” You uttered, repeating it like it was your last word on Earth. As though Sebastian was keeping you afloat along a river of satisfaction.

You couldn't see his face, but you knew he was smirking. Enjoying the way your brows furrowed with every movement of his hands. His head came up to meet your exposed neck in open-mouthed kisses, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

“You’re perfect.” He declared in between kisses, sucking sensitive spots on your skin and provoking loud groans from both of you.

As his fingers worked pinching your skin and nipples every so often, you wondered how you got so lucky. To be located in the city of dreams, and wrapped in a musician's arms, with his piano-player fingers working overtime to please you.

You couldn’t be happier.

#ryan gosling #la la land #sebastian wilder #damian chazelle #ryan gosling x reader #ryan gosling fanfic #ryan gosling fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #emma stone #hioreh fanfictions #sebastian wilder x reader #sebastian wilder fanfiction #sebastian wilder fanfic

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emsvertigo · 9 months

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Reckless Serenade

image not mine, found on pinterest

summary & genre — fluff & nsfw. you & holland meet in a rundown bar when you order the same drink. when you find yourselves alone, your attraction towards each other becomes apparent.

warnings — sexual references, smoking, alcohol use, emily tries to write comedy (probably fails), one use of strong language.

character & pairings — holland march x fem!reader (the nice guys. 2016)

word count — 2.2k

a/n — i fucking hate writing dialogue but you need it AHHH. anyway i rewatched the nice guys and it sparked me to write this cause holy shit holland is my dream man. i’m so glad the ‘barbie’ film has opened people’s eyes to how hot ryan gosling is lmaoo. thank you so much for all the love on my seb fic since ‘barbie’ released. anyways, i have literally never been to l.a in my life, so please excuse the bad descriptions of its environment. hope you guys enjoy!

find my old fics here! ✿

You note his hands first. The way they slide up and down the bar, in a sense of nervousness that buzzes through the air. How his fingertips bounce against the wood, creating calm in his mind. The dimples and blemishes littered over his hands, creating pools of imperfections and bruises, highlighting age where his dimmed face could not. The whiteness of his knuckles when he downed a shot, the silver liquid coating his throat as his Adam’s apple bobbed. His wrist adorned a cast, bloodstained and browning from wear. You notice the way his nimble fingers balanced cigarettes between creases. The smell of smoke his figure expelled, thick yet pleasantly alluring. The same smoke combed his hair and left an addictive taste on his lips. His hair fell from its perfectly gelled structure, placed into a cascading loop of colours and strands, framing his face.

You didn't know him, but you didn’t have to. The way he had strutted into the bar with the confidence of an emperor, only to have him sit far from you and cower like a terrified mouse, had given you a strong impression. He had ordered something strong to start, blending into your assumptions of him. His sunglasses slid down his long nose, giving you a glance at his eyes which were blazing with apprehension. You knew the man was broken, and he didn’t know how to hide it, no matter how hard he tried. The dim bar lights above bled onto his figure, creating fast shadows around his fitted suit. The side of his face was left in a mist of gloom, keeping his identity hidden.

First interactions came suddenly as his hand extended into the air, raising two fingers towards the barmaid. He slurred his order into her ear, the syllables dripping off his tongue. Your eyes glanced at him as he spoke, a hint of recognition on your features.

“That’s what I drink.” You smiled towards the stranger, a hint of humour in your voice. He smirked in response, holding the glass to his lips and dripping the liquid into his mouth. Your eyes again moved to his hands, the silver rings on his fingers absentmindedly gliding over his thick moustache.

Silence blanketed you both in a cloud of drunken thoughts. The taste of your drink, which he had copied, stuck to your teeth with saccharine fuzz. Your own hands drummed the tabletop in rhythmic focus, tearing yourself away from the stranger. Sounds from the jukebox swam through your mind as you attempted to think of something else to say. But he spoke first.

“My wife used to drink them.” The statement was directed towards himself, but you couldn't help but overhear. You tucked a stray hair behind your ear, shifting your body closer to his. The man turned to you and his features were truly shown.

The sunglasses obstructing your view from his eyes slid further down his face, cornering you with seafoam colour. His eyes were decorated with dark marks which drooped into exhaustion. He was incredibly gorgeous, though something pathetic hung around his aura.

“Oh!” You said in surprise, “You’re married?”

A solitary sob left his lips, closely followed by a sigh. His head hung for a moment before he drunkenly picked it back up with a forceful swing. The motion toppled him backwards, almost crashing to the floor in a heap, but he caught himself clumsily on the bar.

“Not anymore…” He finally spoke, rubbing his fingers over his long nose, and pushing his sunglasses up his face.

“I’m sorry.” You begin, a hole forming in your heart, pushing your emotions into a tidal wave. He feebly smiled, not wanting you to persist.

“Don’t be, I shouldn't have brought it up.” He spoke, returning the awkward stillness which created hyper-awareness of your situation. You cleared your throat, bringing a hand up into the air to summon the barmaid, delivering a warm grin her way as you ordered your drink.

The sizzling air between you both didn't cease when you returned to your drink, mindlessly observing the ornate walls. Your fingers glided across the tall decorated glass, condensation cool against your fingertips. You could feel his soft eyes on you, but the intent he wished was not one of violence, it was one of comfort and care. In the electric air, you almost felt a chill travel across your spine. As you felt his eyes drifting over your face, around your body and down your legs, you couldn't help but dream of his hands doing the same. The texture of his palms, the tickle of his fingertips gliding across your frame until they reached your sensitive points.

You gasped quietly to yourself, brushing away the dirty fantasies your brain had designed. You dipped your head back and downed the rest of your drink, the liquid burning its way down your throat. You coughed at the sensation, holding your hand up, keeping your decency in front of the stranger. The scraping of a seat beside you caused your attention to divert. Boots thudded against the floor, patting loudly against the wooden surface below. You glanced up from your drink and made eye contact with the barmaid, who was wiping the bartop with a wine-stained cloth.

“Sorry, but I think you should go too, I’m about to close up.” She spoke, wiping the bar of any grease that clung to its wood. You shook away her comment in realisation, turning to each side to notice that the seats situated behind you were empty. The house lights blinded the room in white colour, contrasting with the cosy environment from earlier. Wooden chairs had been placed on tables, and another girl was sweeping up the mess made by previous customers.

“Oh shit, my bad.” You quickly apologised, fumbling around in your bag for a bill, which you placed on the bar next to your empty drink.

You strung your bag around your shoulder, letting the material ruffle your dress in the rush. Your heels clicked against the floor as you clambered off the bar stool, and staggered towards the exit. The amount of alcohol you had drunk now flooded your thoughts, and the ground started to spin slightly. Waving goodbye to the workers inside the bar you stepped outside, your face immediately hit with the humid L.A air.

The moon hung bright in the sky, illuminating the alleyway, along with large neon lights advertising different clubs which sat across the seafront. The alleyway, though small, was safe and protective from harm, the main street only being a few moments away. Puddles from an earlier rainstorm littered the ground, answering your question as to why the air was so humid. The noises of car horns and splashing puddles echoed from the distance, and the buzz from the neon signs droned lowly behind you. A large overflowing dumpster nestled in the corner created an overwhelming stench, flowing into your nostrils and out of your mouth. Leaving a horrible taste on your tongue, vomit almost rising to your throat. You reached up and pegged your nose with your fingers, any attempt to crush the smell.

“I can’t smell that.” A voice next to you whispered. You jumped, almost dropping your bag from your shoulder in surprise. The figure next to you let out a squeak, muttering the Lords name into the night, frightening himself with your reaction.

As you turned, you recognised his eyes from earlier, although now they weren’t adorned by dark glasses. The piercing blue was reflected by the purple neon lights, painting him in an oceanic glow. You noted quietly how his cheekbones dipped and sunk in the shadowing light, the stubble crowding his jaw and creating depth on his young face. You smiled with recognition, not paying any attention when your bag slipped from your shoulder to the ground.

“You startled me!” You whispered, moving your face closer to his in order to be heard. Your noses almost touching for a moment, breaths mingling until you pulled away. He giggled, alcohol buzzing off his body with heat and hysterical energy, a personality which he did not express back inside the bar.

“I’m sorry for bringing up my wife earlier.” He spoke, a flash of sadness painted across his perfect features, his hair was messier now and strands were flying out of place every which way. You held your hand out, placing it on his chest. The fabric of his tie underneath your palm, making your heart beat faster. Letting your fingertips drift absentmindedly.

“It's okay, I’m sorry for reminding you of your wife.” You smiled sympathetically at him, his cheeks red from drink and closeness. You could feel his heart beneath his clothes, fighting for its life as it thumpped twice as fast.

“That’s why I like you.” He whispered, swaying slightly from side to side. He reached one of his hands to rest behind your head, onto the wall, trapping you against the building. If you couldn't feel his heartbeat, you would think he was a natural at this.

His breath fanned onto your cheeks, the smell of scotch and beer pouring from his mouth into your nose. His scent was overpowering, cigarette smoke bloomed throughout his build, grasping onto your senses with a firm fist. You looked up into his eyes, his eyelids heavy and hooded, his lips turned into a smile.

“Is that so?” You breathed, placing your other hand onto his chest, running your palms along his body, his blue suit slightly out of place. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing his tanned skin for you to see, sweaty from the humidity. A gold chain hung from his neck, adding to his charm.

He hummed in response, looking over his shoulder for a moment. His side profile flashed before you, jawline sharp and your hands reached up to grab the sides of his face, pulling him back into reality and your deep stare.

“What’s your name?” You whispered, the buzz of the neon lights behind you both creating the only sound in the alleyway. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, heat rising to your cheeks as he looked down at you, pulling his lip between his teeth.

“Holland.” He spoke, bringing his casted hand up to rest on the wall instead, while his other hand moved to cup your jaw.

“Like the country?” You smiled, continuing to move your hands up and down his front. He chuckled in response. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice his thick cast, a doodle of a goose now apparent on the strong material in the purple light.

“How’d you break your arm?” You breathe, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

His eye contact dropped before returning, a flash of light in his eyes.

“Minor workplace accident.” He replied, his fingers running their way across your jawline, keeping your face focused on him.

“Oh really?” You smiled, the intoxication evident in your voice, liquor dripping from your tongue into the air.

“Yeah. It gets tough out there.” He sighed, acting as calm as he possibly could with his body so close to yours. It was humourous, the way he shrugged off statements like they were nothing, when his body language told a different story.

“What do you work as?”

“I'm a P.I”

“Sexy.” You breathed, your eyelids heavy as you looked up at him through long lashes.

The single word dripped from your mouth, causing him to lean in even further, his breath pushing into your mouth with every exhale.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, causing you to nod, mouthing ‘yes’ without any further questions. From the moment he had walked into that bar, you had wanted to feel his lips on your skin.

Slowly he closed the gap between you both, his fingers finding their way into the back of your hair. Your lips locked with his, cementing their place together. The taste of cigarettes overwhelmed your mouth, addicted to the flavour and the sensation. Your hands wandered up his neck, delving into his hair and pushing him closer towards you, your noses meeting on each other's cheek.

You moaned as he parted your lips, gasping like he was drowning in your touch. He opened his mouth to speak but the words didn't form, you crashed your lips into his once again sighing as you felt his hands leave your face and wrap around your frame. Your heartbeats were so close, almost as one as your chests flushed against each other. You heard him moan as he slipped his tongue through your teeth, licking its way into your mouth in an attempt to become closer to you. You had only met this man, but from the way he kissed you, it felt like something you could get addicted to.

“Holland.” You breathed as his lips retracted from yours again to begin kissing at your neck, the sensitive skin now on fire. His breath was hot against you, filling your mind with lustful desires, clouding your thoughts with his name over and over. The tickle of his moustache made you even more interested in him, wanting to feel the irritation everywhere.

He paused for a minute to examine your eyes, feelings and diminutive reactions to him. When he saw your drooping eyes, surveying him in the same manner, he kissed you again. This time breathing in your scent as he did so, his smoke-flavoured tongue licking your lips carefully.

When you pulled away breathless and head spinning, he let his hands wander over the small of your back.

“What's your name?” He whispered, kissing your forehead with an intimate peck.

“Give me your number and maybe you'll find out.” You groaned, leaning yourself forward into his touch as he pushed you against the wall.

#holland march #holland march x reader #holland march fanfic #the nice guys #the nice guys fanfic #ryan gosling #ryan gosling fanfic #ryan gosling x reader #ryan gosling fanfiction #fanfiction #imagine #x reader #hioreh fanfictions

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emsvertigo · 1 year

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Nectar Of The Gods

image not mine, found on pinterest

summary & genre — angst, fluff & slight nsfw. as a na’vi you have always been sceptical of trusting sky people and dream-walkers, so there’s no difference when jake suddenly joins your tribe. rumours begin to spread about him, but all you want to know is his true intent. why is he really here, and why is his existence plaguing your every thought?

warnings — canon-typical violence, sexual references, strong language (c’mon it’s jake)

character & pairing — jake sully x fem!na’vi!reader (avatar. 2009)

word count — 3.1k

a/n — hii! this is my first post back on this account since i finally got inspiration back after 2/3 years!! sorry if you’ve come from the lord of the rings fandom and followed me when that was my normal thing to post, i appreciate you but i have moved on to different fandoms <3 anyway i got into avatar pretty recently with the release of the new film and MY GOD is jake sully fit, anyway, this is such an self insert cause i’m in love with him (aren’t we all). thank you to @nptnewr who has been a legend by inspiring me to write again (and getting me into avatar) ilysm!

find my old fics here! ✿

takes place during avatar. 2009, no way of water spoilers!

The whispers had started quickly. Through leaves and into the trees, casting a mist of rumour around the air, sticking damply to conversation. The sky person disguised in an ally’s body had arrived in the village suddenly, presenting no warning to the tribe of his coming or when his departure would be imminent. The gossiping tales of his true intentions were only fiction, planted like seeds to keep curiosity blossoming into a thick vine of chaotic lies. Some whispers spoke of his swift acceptance of the native way of life, and how his sacrifices presented him as a trustworthy friend, rather than an enemy to be slaughtered. Some spoke kindly of Eywa’s presence in his life and followed the deity’s instructions of selectively choosing this certain being. However, there were still some who spoke of darkness and the oncoming storm that would follow his path, destroying life in his wake. His footsteps covered with the blood of families after luring them to their doom, enchanting them with hope.

The blade in your hand trembled as you cut through bone, sharpening the ends of your arrows in haste. A pile of thin items grew swiftly beside you, accompanied by your bow. Your fingers were crying from holding the knife with extreme pressure, but your thoughts only grew, circling with stories and myths about this man, this alien, as your fingertips turned pale. With every movement of your arm, a grunt emerged from your clenched teeth. Snarling at the thought of the dream-walker amongst you, living as though his life was connected to the planet as yours was. He had won the heart of many, yet it was still strange that he distanced himself and became clueless when talking about pressing matters, hoping to come to peace with his kind and your tribe, pretending to warn you about dangers to come. Trespassers and strangers should be insulted and killed for their embarrassingly horrific behaviour.

The knife clattered to the branch beneath you, breaking the mould of concentration that covered your mind. You looked down at the discarded tool, useless and lifeless in shape after overwork. You hissed, grabbing the blade and throwing it far into the night, along with the arrow you had been working on. The air nipped your face as you sat at the edge of a tree branch, separated from home. Your pile of arrows accompanied you, balancing in the grooves of the bark.

Below your swinging feet, you spotted the ground glowing with footsteps, a dark figure stalking its way through the undergrowth. The footsteps of the being were quiet, yet the patter of bare feet was loud in your twitching ears. His name slowly fell from your lips, like a drop of poison. The curl of your lips grimaced as the syllables left your tongue. He was an insider for the sky people, and could not be left to fester within your home.

You quickly stood, grabbing your bow and arrows, and balancing your feet against the edge of the wood. At this height, you concluded that it was the creature you were looking for, as his movements around the forest were hasty and unfamiliar. Placing your arrows into their quiver, situated on your back, you jumped gracefully down onto the floor. The luminescent green colour of the leaves immediately grew as your skin connected with the plants.

Keeping the figure in your eyesight, you dropped to your hands and feet, keeping low to avoid detection. Your feet patted gently against the forest floor, as your hands quickly moved any bushes obstructing your view. You saw his figure turn into a small dip in the ground, an area covered by glistening trees, blue. Now you stood, your pace quickening with the advantage of being placed on your feet.

When you reached the secluded area, you brushed the drooping leaves aside, stepping into the glowing space. His back was turned to you, standing straight and strong. You quietly released an arrow and placed it into your bow, drawing the string far back, and aiming it directly at his head. You took a small step forward, the ground crunching beneath your feet. His ears twitched with the sound, immediately he started to turn around.

“Jake-Sully” You spoke, your grip tightening around the bow, hand beginning to cramp. He let out a small sound of surprise. “You are trespassing on our land.”

His eyes flashed with humour, “Easy girl.” He laughed, his hands raising to either side of his face. You pulled the bowstring back further in retaliation.

“Do not insult me.” You took a step forward. His face was soft in the cool glow and his features seemed boyish in close proximity. Innocence radiated across his form, but you knew better than to trust this version of him. “You know what you have done.”

Jake’s head tilted, questioning your motives with a flash of his eyes and raise of eyebrows. “I’ve been nothing but good to your people.” He stated. “I know you may not trust me for who I am, but I know I’ve tried my best to appreciate and learn your way of life.”

You rolled your eyes and groaned loudly in annoyance. Your arrow stayed aimed at his head. “Eywa chose you, why?”

He smirked in response, lowering his arms. A gesture that made your skin crawl and you moved your bow, indicating that he should keep them up. He obeyed.

“I’ve been asking myself the same damn question.”

“You are ignorant, stupid and do not care for our world.” You snarled, “You are working for your kind, you don’t want to protect us.”

He sighed, his tail swishing in annoyance. His nose creased, “Now who’s insulting who?” He muttered.

Your arrow tightened in your grasp, the pain between your fingers becoming overbearingly sore. In a flash, you turned your bow to face its attention directly next to his ear and released. The arrow pierced the air in a motion blur which spiralled out of the space beyond the trees, after nipping Jake on the tip of his ear. His hands suddenly dropped from the air, reaching up to cup his face in surprise. Your ears moved at the sound of his pathetic cries, and your tail swung angrily.

“You are no warrior.” You stated, arm lowering the empty bow to your side. You scoffed as you looked at his terrified face, his eyes wide and pupils dilated.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” He yelled, spit flying across the space that separated your bodies. “You could’ve killed me!”

“But I didn’t.” You frowned, mocking his childish expression.

“You are unbelievable.” He mumbled, stepping forward, an indication that he was leaving. Yet, your hand, dropping the bow, reached out to place a palm on his chest, stopping his motions.

“Why are you really here, Jake?” Venom was still evident in your tone, yet with his proximity, your voice lowered. His eyes flickered, as he stared down at you, and your hand flat on his body. “And don’t tell me your story of hope and justice.”

Jake’s chest rose and fell under the weight of your hand, his heartbeat quickening. “If you don’t want to hear it, I can’t tell you.”

Your feet stepped closer to him, your faces almost touching with breath intertwining in the warm air. Your body almost accompanied your hand, flushed against his humid skin, his sweat and scent. “I know you are not here for peace.” You pause, “You are here for war.”

“I promise you, I’m not.” He mumbled, his breath spilling onto your face. Your eyes, connected in a weary trance, narrowed. You stepped away, hand falling back to your side. A breath he was holding in fell from his lips in quick exhaustive sounds. Your eyes fell to the floor.

“Lying betrays trust.” You stated, looking back into his eyes now, his eyelids heavy. “Not that I trust you, but others do.”

He sighed, his eyes closing for a brief moment, taking in the words you had spoken to him. In the silence, you could faintly hear the noises of the tribe far behind you two, and the growing sounds of the forest. Jake brought a hand up to scratch his forehead in defeat.

“Y’know, I’ve changed over time, right?” He asked, staring directly into your eyes, apology dripping off his tongue. “I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“Be out with it!” You cried, flinging our hands out towards him and pushing him backwards, however, his strength kept him firmly in place. Your hands rested on his chest in tight fists.

“I was recruited to gain your trust and lure you out of your home so that the humans could obtain some materials.” He breathed, looking straight ahead now.

You understood plainly what the statement meant, and all the nasty details it entailed. It would cause the collapse of the tribe's home, and all your memories would vanish when the tree fell. Your eyes pricked with angry tears, desperately trying to blink them away. You knew this would be the case. That Jake was not a friend, he was not worthy of anyone’s trust. Your head lulled forward, connecting with his chest, seeking comfort and not caring who you were connected to. Your fist bashed against his skin, yet he did not yell when your cries came.

“You liar!” You yelled, your vocal cords straining with the anger in your voice. “We trusted you!”

Your heart burned, creating a large searing hole in your chest. Agony filled your senses. Pain. Betrayal. Lies. Your tail swatted the air, as your fist pounded his chest. Tears were streaming down your cheeks in harsh floods.

Slowly you felt strong arms around you, pulling your body further into him. Your forehead disconnected from his chest, and you stared up at him, eyes widened. His calloused hands rested themselves on either side of your thighs, cupping your flesh close to him.

“But you wanna know why I didn’t?” He breathed, close to your face. His essence empowered your body and captivated your mind. However, you always found he was captivating your mind.

Long sleepless nights were crowded with the thoughts of him, why he was here and what he wanted. Yet often your mind wandered to what he did do here, and what the positive aspects of his arrival had been. Some nights you had been overcome with emotions of jealousy and hate towards the women whom he spoke to in the village. Yet you reassured yourself that this was felt due to the unwanted circumstances of his arrival. You reassured yourself it was due to his dream-walker persona that you felt the way you did. But now, with his hands wrapped around your body, so close that his breath was yours. You knew why your hatred grew so strong. Why you had a feeling it was against your honour to speak to him, let alone be in the same room with him. Many had shared their hatred and doubts, but none had been as obsessed as you had.

His eyes stared softly down at you. The same eyes that only moments before had widened with fright and annoyance. Eyes that clouded your dreams in soft fog which lifted into a pink sea of foam. The eyes you had caught glances of while he laughed, smiled, cheered. Your ears twitched in recognition of his low voice, rumbling into your ears. “Because I fell in love.”

Your eyes widened in surprise as the puzzle pieces slowly started to mould together, bonding into newfound information. The reason you became hot and flustered around even the slight mention of his name was not due to hatred. Those hot flushes in the night due to his appearance in your mind were due to the same thing. Love. His words suddenly made the tears jerking your eyes spill again, drowning your cheeks in clear liquid.

“I’m sorry I probably shouldn’t have said anything.” He whispered, one of his hands reaching up to cup your cheek and wipe the tears away. In retaliation, your hand began reaching up from your side, raised to meet his grasp and interlink your fingers together, closely. Your hands meet in front of your faces.

“Jake…” You breathed, standing up straight and touching your forehead with his. Your new realisation was difficult to express in the form of words, your brain was still wracked with this new information it had been presented with.

He slowly lowered your hands to the side, and spoke your name, close and low. The sound of your syllables falling off his tongue sent a shiver down your spine, and the back of your neck grew hotter as his hand on your waist pulled you increasingly closer. “I chose you long ago.” He purred, “I just wonder if you’ll choose me.”

His head slowly lowered, in a gesture that made the hairs on your arms stand on end, and a sudden hotness plunge straight to your core. Your eyelashes fluttered as you breathed, “I will always choose you, Jake.”

“Well, then..” He trailed off, his face inches from yours now. “Can I kiss you?”

Your head nodded before your brain could keep up, and in a swift moment, his lips had joined with yours. A gasp tried desperately to escape your lips, but he swallowed it, claiming every breath of yours to be one of his. Your eyes slowly closed, when you submitted to the unfamiliar feeling. His lips moved slowly against yours in seductively intricate movements, like two strangers dancing in the night.

His hand removed itself from your waist and travelled up the side of your naked body, stopping to trace over bumps and scars imprinted on your flesh. His hand soon found its place at the base of your jaw, cupping the shape. His fingers slowly tickled the side of your face as his lips worked their way around yours.

A low sound escaped from his throat, growling as you opened your mouth for his tongue to dive into. Plunging into the abyss that was your hot mouth. Your response was a quiet moan, startled by his new courage, as your tongue licked a stripe up one of his front teeth.

Jake's hand suddenly came to rest on your chin and pulled it away from him as he caught his breath. His chest rising and falling from the action that had just taken place, you noticed how his pupils dilated and grew lustful when soaking in your image. Your breath was raging its way through your lungs and up through your throat in shallow gasps.

“I have dreamed of that moment.” You spoke through breaths. It felt strange to admit it aloud but his face was in every thought you had, even if it had taken you this long to believe it. Your chest fell in one final long breath, which caused the beads on your necklace to clink against each other, breaking the silence that had fallen between the two of you.

Jake’s eyes had not left you since the kiss broke, but his demeanour was uncharacteristically quiet. His hand had broken the bond with your own and had started roaming your jaw to accompany the other one, yet now he gazed down at you. Not wanting to ruin the moment with a quick movement or a train of thought.

Your hair had become unravelled and had now fallen in front of your eyes, in small ringlets, loose from their original braids. However, neither of you could find the courage to move and fix them back into place behind your ears. Your heartbeat was pounding, your mind wishing that Jake would speak.

“You are beauty.” He finally stated, his hand running down your neck and onto the top of your chest. You felt your cheeks heat up from the compliment, but did not want to look away from his cautious gaze. “I truly believe that.”

You smiled and swore you heard him curse beneath his breath when you did so. Your hands grazed at the front of his chest, as his arms circled your neck. “If you were not from a distant star, I would have thought Eywa had created you for me.” You giggled, “Even if you are stupid, you are also selfless.”

At this, Jake laughed, a sound that echoed through your ear and made your eyes flutter closed. “I guess that combination works.”

You began laughing at this comment and brought yourself forward to kiss him once again. His smile was evident on his lips as your bodies collided once more, your front flushed against his own. The gentle movement of lips which were once hasty began to invade your brain. Short laughs played out underneath the weight of lips, and smiles stopped the kiss from becoming just as intimate as the last.

You broke free of his lips and planted a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, leaving yourself to linger there for a few moments longer, breathing in his scent. His smile curled when your lips retreated and your feet landed steadily back on the ground, tail swishing mindlessly in happiness. The root of your problems towards Jake was so obvious now, and your raging want for him had so pointlessly turned into disgust.

“Shit.” He smiled, “It was only a couple minutes ago you wanted me dead.”

Your head dropped low, and your eyes focused on the bow laying discarded at your feet. The ground illuminated the placement of the bow, as you recalled the events before Jake had distracted you with his surprising confession. “I don’t know if I should forgive you for what you said before.”

His head now lowered, joining your gaze towards your feet and the weapon situated there. He sighed into your ear, regretting what he had agreed to do, “I understand.” He paused, thinking of what to say next, “You don’t have to forgive me.”

Your head lifted towards his face again, your eyes meeting his as his pupils dilated. “I understand, Jake.” You spoke, “I wish your honesty was not forced by my threats, but I know what it’s like to not want to see the truth.”

Your foreheads met once more, “Please accept my apology, I did not understand my emotions.” You breathed, cupping your hand in his, circling the back of his rough hand with your thumb.

He chuckled, “I should be sayin’ sorry to you for all the shit I’ve put the Omatikaya through.” Your eyes narrowed with his mocking tone, which he quickly discarded. “Which I am, I apologise for everything.”

He gave a quick squeeze to your hand, reaching up and kissing your forehead. Your eyes fluttered shut when you felt his breath against your skin, hand tangled in your grasp. Soon his body returned to its natural stature and your eyes opened.

“I see you.” He spoke, once his eyes were level with yours once more.

“I see you, Jake.” You whispered, bringing your interlinked hands up to your mouth, longingly kissing Jake's knuckles in one long motion.

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emsvertigo · 11 months

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summary & genre — angst & slight nsfw. after the death of a gang member you take a moment to reflect in your tent. however with dutch standing so close you confide in him, which leads to a rare moment between the two of you. takes place in chapter 4 of rdr2.

warnings — touchy reader!!, canon typical violence mentioned, smoking, sensitive conversation topics, major character death.

character & pairing — dutch van der linde x fem!reader (red dead redemption 2. 2018)

word count — 2.2k

a/n — it’s finals season and i’m dying but i’m kinda obsessed with rdr2 rn cause i’m playing it for the first time (ahhh!!) i’m currently on the epilogue but i’m missing arthur’s story with the gang, especially dutch haha, so i decided to write this. obviously once again it is really self insert but i don’t care. if you’re reading this i love you and really hope you enjoy!

also!! don’t worry i’m still writing for ryan! i’ve got a draft in the works!

major spoilers for chapters 1-3 of rdr2!!

find my old fics here! ✿

From outside the tent, hearty singing could be heard, ringing out into the night breeze, a rare occasion for the camp as of late. The notes performed on guitar signified health and victory, however not everything that day brought had been pleasant. The death of a member of the gang had always been celebrated with memory and tales, yet the member who lay was not old enough to carry a lasting legacy. Sean’s death had been greatly overshadowed by the retrieval of Jack. Cheers echoed throughout the camp, yet there was a falseness to the smiles, which didn't quite reach the wearer's eyes.

Not that you didn't love Jack, of course, you did, just like every other member of the gang. His face lighting up with a smile was a blessing, and the only pain you wanted to witness him feel was a full stomach from eating too much. Of course, you wanted nothing but the best for the small child, but a young man had been killed only hours before. A young man that meant more to the gang than they dared realise.

You had passed Karen on your way to your tent, her head in her hand, beer beside her foot, swaying and swearing under her breath. You could never understand her pain, but you could understand the worry and apprehension of a loved one leaving for a mission. Someone who you adored so much that they were a piece of you, who could be taken in an instant. You had feared this moment would come to you, seeing as your lover was reckless, but never to someone as young and treasured as Sean.

You had tried to have a word with her and attempted to offer her comfort in her time of need, but she had shooed you away, drunkenly pointed to your tent, betrothed standing outside. She had slurred something about focusing on your problems and returned to the bottle.

It felt wrong to think of your own life and stupid measly controversies and bickering quarrels when Sean’s brains lay splattered across the ground in Rhodes. But he would have wanted your life to continue, and to think about the present and not the past. Although that didn't stop you from taking the time now to sit unattended, far from the party.

You played with your fingernails, chipping away at the red tint which matched Dutch’s waistcoat. Another way to establish your bond with him, to show that it was you that the infamous gang leader became soft and melted around. How a vicious man became putty in your hands a few years ago and every day since. Yet the days had drawn cold, and his stares distant, his kisses hurried and hasty. His voice always sang praise but never the words you wanted to hear, the poetry he had spoken years previous had turned sour.

With his back to you now, amber firelight illuminating his bloody maroon waistcoat, you observed the muscles in his arms tense as he surveyed the camp. A cigar was placed in his firm grip, blowing clouds of smoke into the air, his hat tilted to cover his eyes. His jaw was tight, small specs of stubble tracing his chin. The look of an elusive and feared leader. But you always could tell when your other half was tormented, and this was one of those times.

You let out a sigh. Just being able to be this close to a man that feared was enough to make you come undone, but his demeanour was not an invitation to show him affection. You believed him to be tired of you, and more interested in the youthful women within the camp. Not that you reprimanded them of course with their flowing hair and high-pitched laughs, any man would swoon at the sight of them. But Dutch? Dutch was your lover, and you couldn't bare to catch a glimpse of his eyes lingering on Mary Beth for a second longer. You wanted him to yearn for you again, to be satisfied with your touch.

But it appeared that he wasn't satisfied with anyone, not even those closest to him, since Blackwater.

“Dutch.” You called out to him, your breath was airy and welcoming. His shoulders tightened, and he took another long drag of his pipe, the amber light illuminating his face for a fleeting moment.

“Dutch.” You repeated, this time in a sing-song voice, trying to gather his attention. You wished to have him wrapped around your pinky yet again. But when he didn't respond and his position stayed intact, you decided to stand and make your way towards him.

You placed your hands over his back, running them up and around his neck, carefully tracing your fingertips along his throat. Dutch startled for a second, but calmed into your touch.

“Didn’t hear you comin’.” He whispered, turning his head towards you for a moment before returning his gaze to his family. He took a final drag of his cigar and dropped it, crushing it below his feet into the ground.

“I called but you didn't answer.” You smiled into his neck, holding him close to you. A gesture that used to be so frequent between you both, but had now become tiresome and unwanted. When Dutch remained silent, you spoke again - worry evident on your lips. “What’s on your mind?”

You noticed his eyebrows furl as he grimaced at his reflection. He sighed before replying, a pause between each statement. “Sean. Jack. John. Micah. Sometimes even Arthur and Hosea.”

As of late it wasn’t commonplace for Dutch to confide in you, and as you smelled the alcohol on his tongue you understood how much he needed comfort.

“I can’t stop thinking about Sean.” You sighed, nuzzling your cheek further into the crevis between his jaw and shoulder. “I know I didn't see it, but I keep picturing him laying there.”

“I know,” Dutch replied, an uneasy tone across his lips, “I feel as though I’m responsible for his death.”

You retreated from his shoulder at this remark. How could his mind twist his goals into acts of brutality? He had always been a good man, and you understood that more than anyone.

“Dutch..” You gently grasped his hands in yours, pulling him closer to you. “Don’t blame yourself for something you weren't there to prevent.”

His head dipped, hat sliding down his forehead as he did. You reached one hand up to grasp the hem of his hat and removed it from his head, dropping it to the side of your leg. The same hand then arose to cup the side of his face, running fingertips across his jaw. Your fingers danced into his sideburns and fiddled with the short hair growing there.

“This whole gang is fallin’ apart,” He paused, soaking in the emotion in your eyes. “Nobody has any goddamn faith anymore!” He spoke.

The silence that followed that statement was only heard by you, blood pumping in your ears as you thought back to every time you had been by Dutch’s side. How long you had been with him, and how much you had been through.

“Except for me.”

He lingered, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “Yes. Except for you.”

Moments like this were so hard to come by. Dutch had been so occupied recently, going out scoring for the gang, all the while his conscience was plaguing him with ideologies and problems. Problems that were causing him to completely forget his old, loving, self. Beats like this one had to be shared with complete tranquillity. It didn't matter that Dutch had been eyeing other women, the only woman he could have at any moment was you, and sometimes you wished he would take advantage of that gift.

“I’m here for you, Dutch.” You whispered, his hands coming to find your hips and walking you back into the tent. “I'll always be by your side.”

“I know.” His reply solidified his tough exterior, but you knew that it meant a hell of a lot more to him that you had vocalised your trust in him, and the faith he so desperately clung to. “Just as I am to you, my sweet.”

The saccharine words dripping from his tongue sent you spiralling, but you knew of his silver tongue personality and understood he would use it to get whatever he wanted. He used it with the men, so why wouldn’t he use it to make your brain melt away? But as compliments fell from his mouth, you allowed yourself to be caught like a fish into his lure.

The music playing outside seemed to fade away, muffled by the intense stare Dutch was delivering. His eyelids were slightly heavy from the drink, and in close proximity, you saw his eyelashes flutter. One of his hands trapped yours in a gentle clutch, rubbing circles over the skin there. Your hand cupped his face, sliding your thumb against the stubble. You had hoped to discuss the issue surrounding his loyalty to you, but with his breath fanning your face with hot air you couldn't bare to let the moment disappear.

“Don’t worry, Dutch.” You exhaled, lips almost locking with your own. “You always think of something.”

Dutch reached his hand up from your hip and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His golden rings brushed against your cheek, which sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine. Looking back down at you he confessed;

“Right now I can’t think of anything but you.”

A small smile formed on your face as he leaned forwards and connected your lips in a tender kiss. A sigh escaped his lips as you drew your other hand up to cup the opposite cheek and tug him closer to you, closing your eyes as his chest met yours. His arms snaked slowly around your waist, placing themselves flat on the small of your back, cupping the material that sat there. The hair from his moustache tickled your upper lip and left you smiling into the kiss. His lips danced carefully around yours, making sure to keep the steady tempo of hearts melting into one. The souls of two individuals becoming a singular feeling.

Dutch dipped his tongue into your mouth, running his way along your bottom lip and encouraging your mouth to open and invite him inside. A small groan escaped his lips as the kiss became more heated, his hands lowering to grab at the bottom of your ass. The taste of smoke and whiskey was overwhelming in your throat as his tongue traced your teeth, and both your breaths met in the slim space between your starving bodies.

Dutch mumbled your name across your mouth, a noise that created a large arousal in you. Your hands reached down and glided slowly along the front of his waistcoat and down his chest. Your lips then disconnected when your hands found his gun belt, tugging at the rough leather found there. The buckle under your fingers, cool against your skin as his golden chains bounced onto your knuckles. His forehead connected with yours, breath tumbling from his lips.

“Darlin’...” He groaned, bucking his hips as your hand fell further onto his clothed crotch, feeling him beneath your touch. You spoke his name like a prayer, running over his lips with furious kisses. Your shawl fell to the ground, as his hands moved around your neck, your hand still pressing further into his most sensitive spot.

A moan escaped your lips as he jerked his hips forward, melting into your touch, pleading that you please him and rid him of this dreadful tension building up underneath our palm.

Suddenly there was a shout at the mouth of the tent and a wolf whistle to accompany it. Breaking your intimate moment, your cheeks burned red and Dutch turned to the entrance to confront the intruder, panting hard.

“Look at you!” The voice shouted, words slurred into one another, the stench of alcohol flowing through the air. You'd recognise that disgusting drawl anywhere. Micah. You could've cursed Dutch for allowing him to join the gang, let alone wasting this private moment.

Dutch shot Micah a glare and turned his body to cover you, flashing the silver pistol in its holster towards Micah. A loud and clear threat of death if Micah was not going to leave. But at this display of powerful rage, he backed off, grasping the bottle in his hand and throwing it into the swamp.

Dutch kicked a tent pole which caused the entrance of your makeshift home to close, excluding the rest of the world from your sanctuary. Another firm non-verbal to Micah, or anyone else in the gang, that you were his and no one could disturb you.

Dutch’s mouth was soon at your ear, tickling your skin with his moustache once again.

“Now, where were we?” He cooed, bringing your attention back to him. He placed one hand on either side of your hips and walked you back into the tent, seating you on the edge of your cot.

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